(no subject)

I've been putting off writing my paper for weeks, days, hours. This is why I find myself awake at quarter to four in the morning with only one feeble paragraph in the Microsoft Word box while I fritter away moments by writing in my LiveJournal. I'm nearly cross-eyed with exhaustion, but this doesn't keep me from stubbornly refusing to make any progress whatsoever. I've done nearly everything to avoid getting it finished. After work, I loitered around Starbucks, then came home to take a "power nap" which lasted for one and a half hours. Then I came online, wrote a MySpace message, checked my email a couple times, refreshed my friends page. I called Mom to ask her to bring home some dinner, then sat patiently, doing nothing, until she arrived with food in hand. I rationalized it by telling myself I couldn't reasonably expect to get anything done with my stomach growling in such an aggressive manner. So, I ate. Then I called Albert on the phone. Then I took an even longer nap on the couch in the living room. Showered. Drank some water. And now here I am.

I can envision perfectly all of the ideas I want to express in said paper. But words have escaped me. Except for now, as I'm rattling away to you fine people.

The thing is, I just despise writing papers. This is my symbolic tantrum. No tears or stamping of the feet. Just me and one blinking cursor, giving each other the ol' stare-down. Who will give up first? Me, inevitably. There is no question.